Another Beginning
by Beautiful Noise
Summary: AU Movieverse What if Bruce Wayne had not been an only child? How would the presence of another loved one affect his transformation? Would it affect it?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own anything in this story except for Anna, and the few supporting characters that I have created, whether they have two legs or four. Batman, Bruce Wayne, and everything associated them belong to DC, not me. Please don't sue me, it would be a waste of time unless you want a 1991 Mazda, an ugly couch and an old TV set.

**Summary: What if Bruce Wayne wasn't an only child? What would it be like growing up as a Wayne, without your parents, but without the guilt and responsibility that Bruce carries? How would that additional loved one affect Bruce's transformation?**

**Back story: Introducing Anna Wayne, Bruce's sister. 8 years younger than Bruce, Anna was just a baby when their parents were murdered. Both of the Wayne children were raised by Alfred Pennyworth, the Wayne family's beloved butler, with the assistance of a live-in nanny who cared for Anna as a baby. That kind woman left when Anna turned 5, and it was just the two children and Alfred living in Wayne Manor, until Bruce left for college. This main part of the story picks up as Bruce is coming back for Joe Chill's hearing.**

Author's Note: Yes, I realize that this story is a bit odd. But hey, so am I! Please give it a chance, though. I'm not a comic book fan, and I don't know any of the myriads of details that the comics possess. So if I traipse all over some established story lines with my writing, please be kind. This is strictly movieverse stuff, which is where my only knowledge of Bruce/Batman comes from. Any helpful tidbits of information will be gratefully accepted.

**Also, this story is written to establish Anna, and kind of unobtrusively insert her into some of the back story, before I write another fic featuring her. So this one is set during the time period leading up to, and after Bruce's disappearance, but before he comes back, and before Batman. No bat action in this story I'm afraid, but that will change in the next one, I promise.**

**Thanks for reading, and please review!**

Anna Wayne shed her lightweight wool coat as she entered the house. Alfred's note had said that he expected to be back by today, but a quick glance around the kitchen told her that Alfred hadn't returned yet. She grabbed an apple and headed up to her room.

The sound of the front door opening startled her, and she spun around to see who was there. "Alfred!" Anna exclaimed happily.

"Hello Miss Anna, how are you? I hope everything was well during my absence," Alfred returned in his comforting British accent.

"I'm fine, and yes, everything is fine. Where have you been? I got your note, but you didn't mention why you left, or where you were going. Or is it none of my business?" Anna was curious. That was very unusual behaviour for Alfred, to just up and go away with out any planning or explanation. The message he had left for her had said simply that he was going away for a few days, but expected to return by Thursday, and if that changed, he would phone.

"Well, I'm afraid that's a long, complicated story. But I'll be glad to share it with you, just as soon as we get settled," he told her.

"We? Who's with you Alfred?" Anna stepped closer to the butler, trying to see around him, into the vestibule.

Alfred glanced over his shoulder, seeming to seek permission, and then stepped aside. The younger man, who up until now had been hidden in the shadows, stepped forward. Warm sunlight, splashing down from the vaulted windows, illuminated his face.

Anna paled, her normally rosy complexion giving way to pasty white. Her dark blue eyes widened as she whispered "Bruce?" She swayed slightly as she put a trembling hand to her mouth, then without a sound, she crumpled.

Bruce moved quickly, and managed to catch her before her head hit the marble floor. He gathered her into his arms, and stood. Cradling her against his chest, Bruce headed into the family room, and gently laid Anna on the soft, green sofa.

"Shall I call a doctor?" Alfred inquired.

"No, I don't think that will be necessary," Bruce answered, noticing that Anna was showing signs of waking up. "She just fainted. I suppose it was quite a shock, seeing me again." He mentally berated himself for not finding a better way of breaking the news of his return. Then he heaped more guilt upon himself, thinking of what it must have been like for his sister after he disappeared. But the person that he had been then had been toxic, both to himself, and ultimately to Anna too. Would it have been worse for her if he hadn't left, if he hadn't changed? Of course, to ask those questions was to assume that his change had been for the better. At the moment there was no evidence to support that assumption.

He shook his head, breaking off that circuitous line of thinking. There was nothing to be gained from second-guessing his decision now. Whether it had been the right choice or not, it had been made, and now he would have to face some of the familial repercussions. If he knew his sister, and if she hadn't changed too much in the past 7 years, she was going to be very upset with him, and she was going to want answers. He was going to have to decide, quickly, how much of his past, and his plan for the future, to tell Anna about.

Bruce broke off his reverie, noticing a troubled pair of sapphire eyes that were regarding him seriously.

Anna cautiously pushed herself into a sitting position, never taking her eyes off of her brother. Her emotions whirled as she fought to absorb this revelation. She had spent the last 7 years gradually burying Bruce, adjusting to his absence. It had been a long, hard road, and the fact that it had evidently been for nothing angered her. Anna thought back to the last time that she had seen her brother, when he came home for Joe Chill's hearing.

_7 years previously_

"Bruce!" Anna shrieked as she ran to hug her older brother. She had missed him terribly. He and Alfred were all the family that she had, and with Bruce away at college, a chunk had been taken out of her life. But he was home now, even if it was only for a few days, and under very somber circumstances. It didn't matter why he was there or for how long, Anna would take what she could get.

Bruce smiled at his sister's exuberance as she threw her arms around him and squeezed him, hard. "Breathing, Anna, it's something I like to do," he joked.

"I'm so glad you're here," she said as she released him. "You're early too, so now you can come watch me ride!"

"Ride?" Bruce asked in confusion.

"Yes ride, silly. As in on a horse, in a saddle. Ringing any bells for you?" Anna teased.

"Oh you're so funny," Bruce countered, reaching over to ruffle her dark hair. Had he been a bit younger, he probably would have stuck out his tongue.

Alfred chuckled quietly, watching the two siblings from the doorway where he still stood, holding Bruce's bags. In Alfred's opinion, Master Bruce needed more silliness in his life. Before Master Bruce had left for college, Anna's sunny disposition had kept much of the darkness in her brother at bay. Away from that cheerful influence, the angst and brooding had returned, as had been all too evident today at the train station. On a usual visit, it would only take Master Bruce a few hours to relax and lighten up once he got home.

But Alfred suspected that this time would be different. Even with Anna's optimistic, merry personality at full force, the hearing would keep any of them from relaxing too much. If only Master Bruce wasn't insisting on going. Alfred had tried to talk the young man out of attending the proceeding, but it had been in vain. Perhaps Miss Dawes would be more successful. Too, for some reason, Master Bruce had mentioned in the car that he didn't want Anna to go with him to the hearing. That was going to go over like a lead balloon. Anna didn't even remember her parents; she had only been a baby when they were murdered. Even so, she wasn't going to want to sit at home while Master Bruce went alone. She would want to go along, to offer moral support to her brother, and make a show of solidarity to the press that would inevitably be there.

Anna stopped in the middle of the verbal sparring and looked up at Bruce, her blue eyes suddenly grave. "I mean it Bruce, I'm really glad you're here," she said sincerely.

"I know you are kid," Bruce gruffly returned, pulling her into a half hug. He had missed Anna and Alfred, more than he had admitted. Did he really want to go through with this? If he did it, he would be caught, no doubt about it. That would be a much more permanent, painful separation than just being away at college, and yet again the suffering would be his fault. Maybe he should rethink this plan.

No. This was the only way he had of atoning for his role in his parents' murder. No matter what Alfred, and others, had said all these years, it was still his fault that they had died. If he hadn't been scared, they never would have left through that door, at that time, when Chill was out there. End of story. There was a price to be paid, and he was going to have to pay it, regardless of the personal costs. He couldn't live with himself if he didn't make things as right as he could.

Unwilling to continue with his heavy thinking, he asked "So when are you supposed to ride?"

Anna's face lit up as she replied. "At 3 o'clock. I'm going to do the whole course at speed, on my new horse, Poseidon. I've done this course several times, but not on him. You'll come and watch, won't you?"

"Of course," Bruce answered. A glance at his watch revealed that it was already after 2. "Let me go change my shoes, and I'll meet you down at the stable," he said.

Anna grinned happily and ran out the front door.

Bruce shook his head, a smile lingering on his face as he headed up to his room. He had always been amazed at Anna's vivacious, optimistic outlook on things. What Bruce didn't realize, though Alfred could have told him, was that Bruce himself had been very much like that before his parents died. Maybe a bit more serious than Anna, but there had been in him that same light and joy that she still possessed.

Alfred followed Bruce up the stairs, carrying the suitcase. After a brief argument over what room Bruce would be staying in, Alfred deposited the bag in Bruce's old bedroom.

Bruce put the suitcase on the bed, opened it, and removed the pistol he had brought from it. He weighed it in his hands, contemplating the actions he was going to carry out tomorrow. Replacing the gun in the bag, he pulled out a pair of trainers, put them on, and went back downstairs.

As Bruce walked across the lush grass, he could see the stable and covered ring ahead of him. A small figure, dressed in a sweater, breeches and black velvet helmet, sat astride a large, grey horse. Anna caught sight of him just as he reached the small set of bleachers alongside the ring. A huge smile appeared on her face, and she cantered over to him.

In a serious tone, she introduced him to Poseidon. Bruce was no great horseman, though he could ride fairly well, he had never loved it the way Anna did. But even he could see the obvious quality of Poseidon's bloodlines. A sleek, beautiful animal, with huge, liquid brown eyes, Poseidon was actually quite friendly. Once Bruce allowed the horse to study him, and sniff his outstretched hand, the animal extended its elegant neck and gently head butted Bruce's shoulder.

"He likes you!" Anna cried, delightedly. She reached down and gave the horse a loving pat on its neck.

"Anna, let's give this course a try." Heidi Atcheson, Anna's riding coach called from the other side of the ring. "Remember, he's bigger than Esperanza, so you'll have to adjust your timing on the jumps."

Anna and Poseidon trotted off, circling the ring a couple of times, then she increased their speed to a canter and lined up the first jump. It was a relatively easy cross rail, and horse and rider sailed gracefully over it. The large, complicated course fell away under Poseidon's long legs, and it was no time at all before Anna was lining up for the next to the last jump.

This one was a little more difficult, an in-and-out, two jumps placed a short distance apart, leaving just enough room for the horse to gather itself in between. Anna confidently cantered toward it, judged their distance and signalled Poseidon to jump. They made it safely over the first jump, and were gathered for the second, when disaster struck.

Just as they landed in between the two fences, Anna heard a loud bang. Poseidon snorted, and with a wrenching twist, bolted to the right. She tried desperately to hang on, but she lost her balance and fell, slamming into the second fence and knocking it over as she went down. Pain blossomed in her left arm as she hit the ground, and she lay there, stunned.

Bruce saw Anna fall, saw her crash into the jump, then the ground and she wasn't getting up. He leapt off of the bleachers, scaled the fence and ran to his sister. He could hear Heidi calling for Damon, the stable boy, to call 911 as she tried to quiet Poseidon down. He skidded to halt, and knelt beside Anna.

"Hey kiddo, you okay?" Bruce asked softly. She was conscious, that was good, and her large, blue eyes seemed clear and alert.

Anna didn't answer right away; she was still trying to work some air back into her lungs. The force of the fall had knocked the wind out of her, and with a grimace of pain, she finally got her breath back.

Bruce saw her flinch as she inhaled. "What hurts?" he asked.

Hoarsely, she answered, "My arm, and it hurts when I breathe. Is Poseidon okay?" She drew another breath, more cautiously, and felt the same burning pinch in her side.

Heidi, having handed Poseidon off to Damon, hurried over to her pupil's side. "Is she okay?"

"She said her arm hurts, and her side when she breathes," Bruce replied.

"Um, yes, hello? Never to fear, my question answering abilities have survived this less than graceful moment completely intact," Anna quipped breathlessly. "What about Poseidon, is he hurt?"

Bruce and Heidi chuckled. "Well, her sense of humor is undamaged, she can't be too bad off." Heidi remarked, dryly. "Poseidon's fine, Anna. Damon is putting him in his stall right now." The distant wail of sirens reached their ears, heralding the arrival of the paramedics. They had made excellent time, considering how far out from the city Wayne Manor was.

When the paramedics reached them, Bruce stepped back to get out of their way. Pulling out his cell phone, he called Alfred and told the butler about the accident. Alfred said that he would bring the car down to the hospital, and call Dr. Tompkins to see if she could meet them at the emergency room.

Bruce hung up the phone, and climbed into the back of the ambulance. The EMT shut the doors behind him, got into the driver's seat, and they pulled off.

A/N: That's it for this chapter, and the second, and possibly third are ready to be put up. But I want to know what you think first. Love it? Hate it? Indifferent? Please review! Praise (if it's deserved) and constructive criticism are heartily welcomed! Thanks for reading.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, except Anna, her horses, and the other OC's, so please don't sue me.**

Two hours later, Anna was lying on a gurney, propped up by several pillows. The ambulance had gotten them there in good time, x-rays had been taken, and Dr. Tompkins had examined her. Now they were awaiting a diagnosis.

Bruce stood beside the bed, watching his sister. She was very quiet, which was enough to make him worry by itself. Coupled with the pale, stressed expression on her face, it was testimony to the amount of pain she was in. There wasn't anything he could do about it, and that frustrated him immensely. He was searching for something to say to distract Anna, when he heard the door open, and quickly turned to see who it was.

"Well Anna, you've done quite a number on that arm of yours." Dr. Leslie Tompkins said as she entered the room, x-rays films in hand. She moved to a viewing board, and snapped two of the films up on the lighted surface, then turned to face her patient.

Dr. Tompkins had been a colleague of Bruce and Anna's father, and had been their doctor since their father died. She had immediately agreed to come down to the hospital and take care of Anna when Alfred called.

"It's nothing that can't be fixed, with time and a little help," Dr. Tompkins continued. "You've sustained a fracture to your left ulna," she said, indicating the broken bone on the x-ray film. "But it's clean, and should be easy to set. That should heal in about 6 weeks, but it could take longer."

Pointing to the second film, an image of Anna's ribcage, Dr. Tompkins said, "The good news is, we can't find any fractured ribs. However, based on the symptoms I observed during examination, it seems that you have bruised a few ribs."

"What does that mean?" Anna asked.

"It means that you are going to be very sore for a while. Everyone heals at a different pace, but usually it takes a few weeks for the pain to go away. So plenty of rest, and no strenuous activities until the pain is gone and I clear you for them. Before you ask, yes, horseback riding does qualify as a strenuous sport." Dr. Tompkins replied.

Anna's face fell. She looked down at her left arm, encased in an air cast, and sighed lightly. No riding for weeks! That was going to mess up her whole training schedule.

Dr. Tompkins saw the glum look on Anna's face, and smiled sympathetically. "Don't be too sad, Anna. No strenuous activities and lots of rest also means no school, for a few days anyway."

That got a smile out of the girl, but it quickly faded. "What about the hearing?" Anna inquired anxiously. "It's tomorrow, I'll still be able to go to that, won't I?"

"No Anna, I'm afraid not. You need to stay home, in bed preferably, for the weekend at the very least." The doctor answered.

A tear rolled down Anna's cheek. The news that she was going to have to skip the hearing was worse than not being able to ride. She desperately wanted to go and help Bruce represent their family, to look Joe Chill in the eye and show him whose lives he had torn apart when he pulled that trigger. But she knew better than to argue with Dr. Tompkins. Maybe, if she was feeling a lot better in the morning, she could convince Bruce to let her go anyway. She didn't have much hope of that working, though. Bruce wasn't likely to go against the doctor's instructions. But she had to try.

Dr. Tompkins spoke again. "So we'll set that arm, apply a cast, get you a prescription for some pain medicine, and you'll be all set for the weekend. I'll set up a follow-up appointment for Monday." Looking at Bruce, she asked, "Should I talk to Alfred to schedule that?"

Bruce nodded. If things went smoothly tomorrow, he wouldn't be in any position to take Anna to the doctor on Monday.

"Alright then, I'll do that in just a moment. Bruce, if you'll step out to the waiting room, we'll get Anna patched up and ready to go. The orthopaedist should be in here in just a few minutes." Dr. Tompkins said.

Dr. Harrison, the orthopaedic specialist on call, was able to set Anna's broken arm relatively easily. After the plaster was dry on the cast, Dr. Tompkins had handed Bruce a prescription for some painkillers, a small bottle with a large, white pill in it and a doctor's note for Anna's school. She had reminded him to make sure that Anna stayed as quiet as possible. The bottle, she said, contained one painkiller, so that they didn't have to fill the prescription tonight, and to make sure Anna took the pill in the bottle in the morning, after breakfast. With those instructions imparted, she signed the release, and they were able to leave.

It was after 9 when Alfred pulled the Bentley up to the front entrance to the Manor. Bruce stepped out of the backseat, and headed around to the driver's side of the car. Opening the rear door, he helped Anna out.

Anna and Bruce slowly made their way into the house. She was leaning heavily on her brother, and when he released her for a minute to flip on the lights, she swayed slightly. Leslie had said that the painkillers they had given Anna would make her sleepy. A quick glance at Anna's face confirmed that the drugs were indeed doing their job. Her eyes were closed, and the swaying had grown to alarming proportions. Bruce gently scooped her up, and without protest from Anna, started up the stairs. In her room, he carefully deposited her on the bed, pulled her boots off, and put a blanket over her. It wouldn't hurt her to sleep in her clothes. He stepped back into the hallway, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

Back downstairs, he went into the kitchen in search of something to eat. He wasn't surprised to find Alfred there, fixing two sandwiches.

"So you're psychic now Alfred?" Bruce asked, mischievously.

"Most definitely not, Master Bruce. However, it does not take a great mind to realize that hospital coffee and vending machine crackers are not a substitute for an actual meal." The distinguished butler replied as he set one of the sandwiches in front of Bruce.

Bruce gratefully attacked the sandwich, as Alfred sat down in the seat across from him. "Well, this accident has settled the issue of Anna going to the hearing," Bruce said. "Dr. Tompkins forbid it."

"Yes sir, I suppose it has. One less thing for you to worry about." Alfred responded.

Bruce gave Alfred a funny look. "Who said I was worried about it?"

"Nobody did, sir. But with both know Miss Anna, and we both know how … determined she can be." Alfred said knowledgeably.

_If that wasn't the understatement of the year_, Bruce thought, _I'd like to see what is_. As cheerful and sunny as Anna was normally, she was also as stubborn as a rock when she made up her mind about something. Hard-headed didn't even begin to cover it. The bright side of it was that she was equally persistent in pursuit of good things. Her grades had always been excellent, and she had never needed prompting to do her homework or study. She could be just as relentless about seeking something for the good of another person as she could about seeking her own interests.

Bruce allowed himself a small smile, thinking of the many issues that his sister had seen fit to crusade for. Alfred was right, if that accident this afternoon hadn't happened, Bruce would have had quite a fight on his hands. A fight that he really wasn't up to dealing with. All told, he would have preferred to find a way around the confrontation that didn't involve Anna getting hurt, but since that wasn't an option now, he'd take what he could get. A yawn reminded him of how long the day had been, and the busy day ahead tomorrow, so he said good night to Alfred, and went up to bed.

As Bruce lay in his old bed, with the remnants of his childhood around him, he mentally reviewed the chaotic evening he had just had. The source of the noise that spooked Poseidon had been discovered; a stall door left ajar had been caught by the wind and slammed shut. Heidi had called while they were at the hospital, and explained what had happened. Apparently it had been Damon's fault, and the boy was terrified that he would lose his job over the incident. Bruce had told Heidi not to be too hard on Damon, no permanent harm had been done, to Anna or Poseidon, and it had been an accident, but to make sure that it didn't happen again. Heidi had seemed relieved at his reaction, and had assured him that she would take care of it.

Sleep refused to come. No matter how hard he tried to relax, it was impossible. That shouldn't surprise him really. He wondered if all criminals lay awake the night before a premeditated crime. Of course their fear would be getting caught, something that he wasn't worried about. He was more concerned that something would happen to prevent him from settling the score.

After several hours of unsuccessful attempts to settle down and if not sleep, at least rest, Bruce gave up. He slipped out of bed, pulled on a sweater, and stepped out into the hall. After a quick check to make sure that Anna was still sleeping comfortably, he headed downstairs. Maybe reading would help him relax.

Bruce stepped into the library, and stood for a moment in the doorway. This room, like his parents bedroom, hadn't changed in 14 years. The rest of the commonly used areas of the house had been slowly altered over time, some out of necessity, some out of desire for variation. But through some unspoken agreement, this room had been left just as it had been for as long as Bruce could remember. He found the lack of transformation comforting. Even all this time later, he could stand here and call up a memory of his mother sitting in that chair by the window, reading one of her favorite novels. Or of his father standing in front of one of the large bookcases, searching for a particular fact in one of his medical books. Those memories provoked a sad smile as Bruce moved to one of the bookcases, looking for something to read. He found _The Scarlet Pimpernel_, which he had been forced to read for a literature class in high school. The book had been surprisingly entertaining, something that most required reading is not, and it had been several years since he had read it. He pulled the book off the shelf, and sat down on the chair near the window. Sir Percy Blakeney's adventures proved to be equally enthralling on a second read, and with out realizing it, Bruce finally relaxed. It took thirty minutes or so, but he was soon sound asleep.

Sunlight filtering through the window woke him a few hours later. The heavy, hardcover book he had been reading had fallen on the floor at his feet. Sounds from down the hall indicated that Alfred was up and about, and probably cooking breakfast.

As Bruce stood and stretched, his plans for today came flooding in to his mind. A small, hard knot formed in his stomach, the first physical sign of the anxiety that he felt. He stepped out into the hall, and consulted the grandfather clock there. 8:30. Well, he hadn't overslept, so at least one thing was going right today.

Tantalizing smells were wafting down the hall, and Bruce followed them into the kitchen. As he had expected, Alfred was there, cooking up a storm. The large wooden table already held three plates, piled high with an assortment of breakfast foods, and three more sat on the counter, waiting to be filled.

"Good morning Master Bruce," the butler greeted him.

"Good morning Alfred. Are we having company for breakfast? Perhaps the entire US Navy?" Bruce asked, indicating the plates heaped with food.

Alfred chuckled. "No sir. I don't get to cook a proper breakfast very often anymore. Miss Anna only eats cereal in the mornings, and there's no use cooking all of this food just for myself. I suppose I did get a little carried away, didn't I?"

"Just a little," Bruce agreed with a smile.

"Well, we'll do what we can, and have the leftovers another time." Alfred suggested. "It'll be about 10 minutes before it's all ready."

"I'll go check on Anna," Bruce said as headed out of the kitchen.

Upstairs, he knocked on Anna's door. Receiving no response, he pushed the door open cautiously. "Anna?" Bruce called, softly. Still no reply. A peek into the room revealed that she was still asleep, her petite form dwarfed by her large, four-poster bed. He crossed over to the bed, and gently touched Anna's shoulder, calling her name again as he did so.

"Go away," was the muffled response. Anna had never been a morning person.

"Anna, breakfast is almost ready. Do you want to get up and eat?" Bruce asked.

For a moment there was no answer. Then Anna opened her eyes, and regarded him in confusion. She stared at Bruce, blinking sleepily, trying to figure out what was going on. A yawn caused the ache in her chest to intensify, and last night's events came rushing back to her. Moving slowly, she very carefully sat up. Breakfast seemed like a good idea. With all of the commotion last night, she hadn't gotten any dinner, and whatever Dr. Tompkins had given her at the hospital had knocked her flat on her butt. She had a vague memory of Bruce carrying her upstairs, and a quick glance down at her body confirmed that she was indeed still wearing her riding clothes.

"I'll be down in just a minute," she said in a scratchy voice. Bruce nodded, and left the room, pulling the door shut behind him. It took her a bit longer than she had expected to get dressed. She was left-handed, but the injury to that hand kept her from using it, and every bend or twist pulled at her sore ribs. Awkwardly, she shimmied out of her breeches and sweater, and into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. After brushing her hair and teeth, and pulling on her old, soft boots, she felt much better, and headed downstairs to eat.

Anna entered the kitchen, moving a bit slower than usual, and was greeted by the mountain of food Alfred had prepared, some of which she couldn't even identify. "Good morning," she said as she slid carefully into her usual seat.

"Good morning Miss Anna," Alfred replied, smiling cheerfully as he set three glasses of juice on the table. Bruce looked up from the paper he was reading and responded with a smile.

Looking down, Anna noticed that as usual, instead of a plate, her place setting held a bowl. Alfred knew her preferences for breakfast, but as Anna studied the spoon lying next to the bowl, she realized that eating was going to be a problem. She didn't relish the idea of eating cold cereal using her right hand to guide the spoon. That could only lead to disaster. She was contemplating her options, when the empty bowl in front of her disappeared, and was replaced by one filled with oatmeal.

Anna looked up to find Alfred standing beside her, smiling.

"I thought something that would stick to the spoon might suit you better this morning," he told her with a twinkle in his eye.

Anna grinned at him. "Thanks Alfred."

"You're quite welcome," he responded as he sat down across the table. Alfred and Bruce filled their plates, while Anna tackled her oatmeal. It did stick to the spoon better, and she was able to successfully conduct a spoonful from the bowl to her mouth.

They kept the chatter light during the meal, no mention of what would take place that afternoon. Anna could tell that the impending hearing was weighing heavily on her brother's mind. She firmly believed that a person's eyes told you all you needed to know about what they were feeling or thinking, particularly if you knew the person well. Watching Bruce, she could see that none of his brief smiles ever touched his eyes, and the hazel orbs were unusually blank. It seemed that he had shut himself off, kept his emotions hidden. Maybe that was to be expected, under the circumstances. But to Anna, it felt different. There was an undercurrent of turbulence about Bruce today, to a greater degree, and of a different kind than she would have thought the hearing would cause. Having seen Bruce's guilt get the best of him many times over the years, she knew what that looked and felt like. This was different, not guilt or sorrow, but anger. Not just anger though, there was also a feeling of anticipation about him, like he was looking forward to something. She could be wrong though. Overhearing a question about Rachel, she brought her thoughts back to the present.

"What time is Rachel coming to pick me up?" Bruce asked.

"She said around 1:30. The hearing is at 3, so that will give you plenty of time to get into town and into the courtroom," Alfred replied.

Bruce nodded thoughtfully, then glanced at the clock. Seeing that it was almost 10, he started to excuse himself to go take a shower, but Anna interrupted him.

"Bruce, can't I go with you, please?" She asked, beseechingly. "I feel much better this morning." It was a lie, but Bruce didn't have to know that.

Alfred and Bruce exchanged looks, then Bruce cleared his throat and spoke. "Anna, you heard Dr. Tompkins last night, she said no." As Bruce was speaking, Alfred got up and retrieved a small, orange bottle from the countertop.

Before Anna could respond, Alfred opened the bottle, shook out a single, white pill and put it in her hand. Distracted from her retort, she looked at the pill, and back up at Alfred. "What's this?"

"Pain medication. Dr. Tompkins said that you were to take it when you got up this morning." Alfred answered.

"I don't need it," she replied stubbornly. Her arm was aching, and she had to admit that her arm wasn't the only part of her body that was hurting. Even so, she didn't want to acknowledge any weaknesses at the moment.

"No one asked if you needed it or not, Alfred said to take it." Bruce replied, sternly, remembering the doctor's instructions.

Anna glared at him, and for a moment, he wondered if she would do it or not. Then, with out a word, she placed the pill in her mouth and washed it down with a gulp of orange juice.

"Bruce, I need to go. Shouldn't the people of Gotham see us there, together?" She tried again.

"No. Dr. Tompkins said no, Alfred agrees with her, and so do I. Please, Anna, don't make this day any worse than it already is," Bruce said.

A tense silence fell over the room. Anna toyed with the remains of her oatmeal, wondering if she felt like taking this any farther. Truthfully, she really didn't. She knew how hard this hearing was for Bruce, all of the memories it dragged up, and the emotions. But she also felt that she had a right to attend and represent her family with Bruce. She looked up, another useless plea on the tip of her tongue, but when she met her brother's gaze, the words died.

"I'm sorry Anna," he said sincerely.

Eyes burning with unshed tears, she looked down at her bowl again, but didn't say anything. Stiffly, she stood up and left the room. Her footsteps echoed as she walked down the hall, followed by the sound of the front door opening and closing.

Bruce and Alfred sat in silence for a moment, then, seeing the look on Bruce's face, Alfred spoke up.

"She'll be alright in a bit. I imagine she's gone down to the stables to share her misery with the horses," the older man said. "That's where she always goes when she's upset."

Bruce considered going after her, but there was nothing else to be said. He knew how important this was to Anna. Under normal circumstances he would have felt horribly guilty for leaving her at home. But these circumstances were far from normal, and though he did feel some guilt, mostly he was relieved to have it settled. He sighed, and headed up to the shower.

Alfred watched him go, then began putting the leftover food away.

Down at the stable, Anna stood in Esperanza's stall, her head pressed to the horse's shoulder. The mare's soft, mahogany coat absorbed her tears. She stood there, one arm draped across Esperanza's back, letting the hot tears fall silently. Damon had already come and gone for the morning, and since Anna wasn't riding, Heidi wouldn't be around, so she had the place to herself. She had come to Esperanza instead of Poseidon, not out of fear of the latter, but because of the long relationship she had with the mare. Bruce had bought Esperanza for Anna 6 years ago, after she out grew her pony. Ever since then, the elegant bay mare had been Anna's confidante and a shoulder to cry on, literally. Her tears finally subsided, and after saying good bye to Esperanza, and checking on Poseidon, she went back up to the house.

She was sleepy, something she suspected that pill was responsible for, and completely drained emotionally. The prospect of a hot bath was comforting, she had nearly frozen to death out there, going out in just a thin shirt and jeans was not a smart thing to do in Gotham in February. It had been warm in the stable, there was a heater in there, but between the house and there it was freezing.

Anna went into her bedroom, and shut the door behind her. Even though a bath sounded lovely, she just didn't have the energy. She lay down on her bed, pulled the blanket up from the foot of the bed, and almost immediately fell asleep.

A soft knock on the door startled her from sleep sometime later, and she awoke quickly, disoriented. She was unaccustomed to sleeping in the middle of the day. Shaking off the lingering grogginess, she called "Come in."

The door opened, and Bruce entered the room. He crossed over to the large bed, and stood there for a moment before speaking. "Rachel's waiting for me down stairs, and I didn't want to leave with out saying good bye."

Anna stared up at him, perplexed. Bruce coming to say good bye wasn't unusual in and of itself, especially today. But there was a depth of emotion in his voice that puzzled her. He sounded more like he was leaving on a long trip, one from which he might not return, instead of being gone for the afternoon. He must be even more upset by this hearing than he was letting on. She wanted to console him, but was unsure of what to say. In the end, she didn't say anything at all, just slid off of the bed and gave her brother a hug.

Bruce gently returned the hug, said good-bye, and went downstairs to the kitchen, where Rachel was waiting.

After Bruce left, Anna climbed back onto her bed, and lay there thinking. She knew that the hearing itself wasn't going to be televised, but the reporters would probably lurk on the courthouse steps, waiting to speak to someone involved, the way they always did with high-profile cases. The remote control for her television was on the nightstand, and she reached for it, then stopped. If there would be anything on, it wouldn't be for a couple of hours. That hot bath from earlier was still beckoning, and she decided to heed its call.

Stepping into the bathroom, she turned on the water, let it run until it was hot, then put the stopper in the drain. She added some of her favorite bubble bath, and watched the tub fill. When she was satisfied with the water level, she turned off the tap and slipped into the steaming, fragrant water, being careful not to get her cast wet. Leaning her head back, she let her thoughts drift, and relaxed.

**To all of my reviewers: Thank you so much! I'm glad to see that you liked the first chapter, and I hope that you'll find the second one just as good. Thanks for embracing the idea of a sibling for Bruce, and subsequently, the character of Anna. Now, please let me know what you think of this installment! **


	3. Ignorance is Bliss

**Disclaimer: I only own my OC's, everything else belongs to someone else.**

That long soak in the tub had been just what she needed, Anna decided an hour and a half later as she made her way down stairs. The hot water had steamed away some of the lingering aches and pains, though she had discovered that she had some pretty spectacular bruises when she looked in the mirror.

She decided to grab a snack before she went to watch the news. Entering the kitchen, she found it empty. Alfred was usually there, either cooking, or sitting at the large wooden table, doing some household paper work. A sneaky smile played over Anna's face. No Alfred meant that there was no one to stop her from getting a snack that would otherwise be off limits. She headed straight for the pantry and used her foot to pull the little step stool out from under the bottom shelf. Alfred kept the cookies, and other tempting items on the very top shelf. Usually Anna could just reach that shelf, by using the step stool and standing on her tiptoes. But after carefully climbing onto the stool, she found to her frustration that, due to her injuries, stretching up to reach the cookies on the top shelf was out of the question. Grumbling, and muttering something about people being too smart for their own good, she stepped off the stool, and put it back in its usual spot. Hearing a soft chuckle behind her, she turned as fast as she could, and found Alfred there, an amused look on his face.

Anna smiled sheepishly. "Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time," she said.

Smiling, the butler stepped up, took down the box of cookies, crossed the room and took a plate out of the cabinet. "I had to do the same thing when Master Bruce was young," he explained as he arranged a few cookies on the plate. "Of course, it never stopped him and Miss Dawes either." Moving to the refrigerator, he poured a glass of milk, and handed it to Anna, and set the plate on the counter in front of her.

"Thank you Alfred," she said happily. "I was going to see if any of the local channels are covering the hearing live. I know they can't be in the court room, but I figure they'll be there, shoving microphones into peoples faces as they come out." Anna and Bruce were both well associated with the machinations of the media. Growing up as a Wayne in Gotham was not an easy task; they were fawned over as the local version of royalty by some, and despised by others for no more reason than the size of the bank account their parents had left them. But whether the public loved you or hated you, the press was always there, watching.

Alfred nodded, and replied, "They probably will. Why don't we go watch it together?" He picked up the plate, and they headed into the family room.

Anna sat down on the overstuffed green sofa, and took a cookie off of the plate that Alfred had placed on the coffee table. Munching contentedly, she picked up the remote and turned on the television. She flipped through the local channels and discovered that only two of them were broadcasting live from outside the courthouse. There were many more cameras visible, other networks, she assumed, filming pieces to be replayed during the evening news.

"Which one do you want to watch Alfred?" Anna asked as she reached for a second cookie.

"I don't have a preference," he replied from a wing chair beside the sofa. "I expect they'll both be saying the same thing."

She settled on channel 4, and turned the volume up a little. The over-styled reporter was just wrapping up a synopsis of Dr. and Mrs. Wayne's murder. Anna was glad that they hadn't tuned in any earlier.

The reporter was mentioning something about Bruce being at the hearing, when she suddenly turned and said, "They're coming out the side."

The onscreen image shook a bit as the cameraman followed the reporter up the stairs. In the background, Anna could see the other reporters and cameras doing the same thing. The press crowded around the double doors that led to the courtroom, just as those doors came flying open, and a handful of people walked out. She could hear the reporters clamoring for a word with the attorneys, and someone else yelling, "It's Bruce Wayne!"

Anna wasn't interested in the attorneys, or even her brother at the moment. Her eyes were glued to the scrawny, homely man that the reporters were addressing as 'Mr. Chill'. This was the man that had killed her parents, had ripped her life apart at the seams before she'd barely even gotten started living it. This was the man who was truly responsible for what happened that night, whose actions had left Bruce nearly overwhelmed with guilt all of these years. All over a strand of pearls, a diamond engagement ring, and a wallet.

She was so lost in thought that she almost missed it. But her attention returned to what the reporters were saying, just as a blonde woman shoved her way through the throng of people. The woman went up to Chill and said, "Joe, hey, Joe Chill! Falcone says hi." The blonde pulled something out of her purse, and there was a loud bang. Chill slumped to the floor, and some of the cops grabbed the woman. The camera angle was bad, but even so, Anna could see the red stain spreading on Chill's white shirt. Then the live video feed was pulled, and a colorful screen showing the network's call sign appeared.

The remote slipped from Anna's fingers, and fell to the floor, somehow switching off the television in the process. Anna didn't even notice. She couldn't believe what she had just seen. That woman had shot Chill, and from looks of it, the wound would be fatal, if it hadn't killed him instantly. Anna found the thought of Chill dying a violent death, so like the one he had caused for her parents, disturbingly satisfying. She wasn't sure that she liked that feeling, wasn't sure what it said about her as a person. Should she really be pleased that Chill had been murdered?

Alfred had immediately turned his attention to Anna as the events onscreen unfolded. She looked shocked, her blue eyes gone wide in surprise. He could see her thinking, processing what she had seen, and he saw the look of satisfaction appear on her face. It was brief, gone almost as too quick to register, replaced by one of confusion mingled with shame. That was to be expected, he supposed. This man had been the bogeyman of Anna's childhood, the evil person who had robbed her of her mother and father. Now that sinister figure had been removed, and she could go on. But sitting here, staring at the blank screen, wasn't doing her any good.

"Miss Anna," Alfred said, quietly. He saw her jump at the sound of his voice, and it took a moment before she tore her eyes away from the television. "Why don't we turn this off and go have a nice cup of tea?"

She nodded absently, and followed Alfred into the kitchen, operating on autopilot. Her mind was still mulling over what had happened. She took a seat at the table, and watched Alfred make tea. He brought the tray over to the table, poured two cups, put two lumps of sugar in one mug and set that one in front of Anna. A strong scent of bergamot wafted up from the cup, and she inhaled deeply.

Alfred took a seat, and picked up his own cup. He didn't say anything; if Anna wanted to talk about today's events, she would start the conversation. She wasn't overly talkative, but you rarely had to coax things out of her. She would tell you how she felt if she wanted you to know.

They sat silently, sipping their tea. When her cup was empty, Anna sat it down on the table, and said, "I wonder what time Bruce will be back? Did he say?"

"He told me if he wasn't home in time for supper, not to wait for him," Alfred replied. Speaking of supper, he should probably get moving on that. Something simple and familiar was called for on a day like this. He collected the tea things, and carried them to the sink. He picked up the prescription bottle, and turned back to Anna.

"Do you want to take this now, or would you rather wait until after supper?" He inquired.

Anna made a face. Despite the discomfort, she hated taking those things. "After supper, I don't want to fall asleep in my food," she answered.

Alfred put the bottle back on the counter with a smile, and set about fixing supper. He pulled out the pots and pans he needed, then moved to the refrigerator and began taking various items from it.

Anna watched him for a few minutes, still mentally replaying Chill's demise in her mind. She still couldn't believe that after so long, it was finally over. Maybe now Bruce could move on, and quit blaming himself for the whole thing. Chill had murdered their parents, and now Chill himself had been murdered. A full circle.

Standing up, she headed back into the family room, and with a little creativity, managed to retrieve the remote with a minimum amount of pain. She turned on the TV, and started channel surfing. As she flipped past one of the local news networks, she noticed that they were showing the footage from the courthouse. She stopped to see what they had to say about it.

Unlike the footage she had watched earlier, this cameraman had turned to film Bruce when he was spotted in the crowd. Illuminated by a bright spot light from one of the cameras, Bruce had a determined look on his face. He advanced toward the camera, but his gaze was focused on something else, most likely Chill. Then came the gunshot, and the cameraman whirled around to catch the action. It was bad footage, but there was no way this station was going to be the only one without anything to show.

"We understand that Mr. Chill was pronounced dead at the scene," the reporter announced as they ended the piece.

Anna went back to channel surfing, content with the knowledge that Chill was indeed dead. She finally found something worth watching, and put the remote control down.

Half an hour later, Alfred came to let her know that supper was ready. She turned the TV off, and went down the hall to the kitchen. Something smelled really good, which was no surprise since Alfred was an excellent cook.

Entering the kitchen, she saw that he had made chicken potpie, one of her favorites. He dished up a portion of the food for her, and a plate for himself, and they sat down to eat.

"This is delicious, Alfred." Anna commented.

"Thank you Miss Anna, I thought some comfort food was in order this evening," the butler replied.

They made light conversation, out of habit more than actually having anything to say. Anna found that she was hungrier than she had thought, and polished off her helping.

When they were finished, Alfred picked up the dishes, put them in the sink, and then began putting the leftovers away.

Anna got up, went over to the sink and picked up the prescription bottle. As much as she hated these things, she had to admit that she was feeling increasingly bad as the evening progressed. She really wanted to be awake when Bruce got home, but right now she wanted to be comfortable more. Opening the bottle, she extracted a pill, and swallowed it with the last of her glass of water.

"Alfred, I'm going to watch TV in my room. I don't know if I'll be back down tonight, so goodnight," she said, quietly.

"Good-night," he returned with a smile.

At the door, she stopped. "Alfred? Is it wrong of me to feel like Chill deserved to die?"

Alfred thought for a moment before he replied. "I can't say that it's right or wrong if that's truly the way you feel. Nothing could ever excuse what that man did, but nothing can change it either, not even his death. If what you're asking is would I think badly of you for feeling that way, then the answer is no, absolutely not."

Anna considered this for a moment, and then nodded thoughtfully. Impulsively, she went to Alfred and wrapped her arms around him. "Thanks Alfred."

Alfred smiled, and returned the hug. "You're quite welcome."

She stepped back, looked up at him and asked, almost hesitantly, "When Bruce gets in, would you please tell him that I said good-night?"

"I certainly will," he answered.

**To my reviewers, Nightarcher210, AnimeAmber, Knottaclue, thevigilante15, Pookie Power 2005, and pollypocket911: A thousand heartfelt thanks! I so appreciate your encouragement, and I'm glad that you have enjoyed the story so far. **

**Everyone, please let me know what you think of this new chapter. I'm getting to the sticky bits, where the drama really starts kicking in, so I need to know what you think. Remember, Anna has no clue what Bruce had planned, or what he's going to do, hence the title of this chapter. So while Chill's murder is thought provoking, and has an emotional impact on her, she has no idea that her world is about to collapse. At least she doesn't until I get the next chapter up. **


	4. Vanishing Act

**Disclaimer: It's theirs, all theirs, except for Anna.**

When Anna came downstairs the next morning and went into the kitchen for breakfast, she was surprised to see Alfred alone in the room.

"Morning Alfred. Is Bruce still asleep?" She asked as she sat down at the table.

"Good Morning," he replied. "I don't know if Master Bruce is still sleeping or not. He never came home last night."

Anna was taken aback, that wasn't like Bruce. "Did he call?"

The butler shook his head, and when his eyes met hers, she could see that he was concerned. "No, I haven't heard from him. I waited up for him, but I fell asleep around 3. When I got up this morning I checked his room, and found his bed hadn't been slept in and his bag is still here. I rang his cell phone just a little while ago, but it went straight to voice mail," Alfred answered.

That really wasn't like Bruce. "Rachel drove him down there, maybe she knows where he is. I'll call her," Anna said, heading for the phone as she spoke.

"Why don't we wait awhile? Master Bruce will probably come home this morning and then we'll have bothered Miss Dawes for nothing," Alfred suggested.

Reluctantly, Anna agreed, and sat back down at the table. Alfred served her another bowl of oatmeal. She stared at it, thinking that it was a good thing she liked oatmeal, because she saw a lot of it in her future, at least until she got the use of her left hand back.

Anna picked at her food, not really hungry. She just wanted to know where her brother was. Why wouldn't he have come home? Where else would he have gone? To a hotel, she supposed. But why?

Breakfast was finally over, and she had managed to eat some of her oatmeal. As Alfred started clearing plates, Anna wandered into the library, maybe she could find something in there to distract her for a couple of hours. She found a novel that looked interesting, took it into the family room, and settled on the sofa.

Around 11 o'clock, when Bruce still hadn't come home or called, her worry and impatience got the best of her. Picking up the extension in the family room, she tried Bruce's cell phone again, but all she got was his voice mail, so she left a message.

Anna went back to the kitchen, found the small, personal phone book, and dialed Rachel's home number.

She was relieved when Rachel answered, she had begun to worry that no one was home, and she didn't have another number listed.

"Hi Rachel, it's Anna. How are you?" Anna said politely.

"I'm fine. Are you feeling better? Bruce told me about your accident," Rachel replied.

"Just a little sore, but I'll be fine. Speaking of Bruce, you wouldn't happen to know where he is, would you?" Anna asked, unable to wait any longer.

There was a long pause. "He's not at home?" Rachel inquired, the worry evident in her voice.

"No, he never came home last night, he hasn't called and he's not answering his cell phone. Did you drop him off here last night?" Anna queried, not liking the direction this was going.

There was another long pause on the other end of the line. "No, I didn't. We…had a disagreement, and I left him someplace else," came the hesitant reply.

"Where did you see him last?" The mild alarm that Anna had felt initially was on the rise.

"Down by the docks," Rachel said. Then she continued, "In front of a club. Carmine Falcone's main hangout."

Falcone. Even to a 14-year old who had grown up in the right part of town, that name was a harbinger of evil. Why on earth had Bruce and Rachel been down by the docks, much less anywhere near Falcone's favorite joint?

Rachel's voice cut into Anna's thoughts before she could get too worked up. "Look, Bruce was pretty upset yesterday. Have you checked the hotels downtown? He might have needed some time to himself, and checked into one of them. Or called any of his friends at Princeton? Maybe he's with them."

"Not yet, I wanted to talk to you first. I figured you would know where he was. Bruce doesn't keep a land line at his apartment, and since he lives off campus, and doesn't have a roommate, I'm not sure who to call up there," Anna replied.

"I'm sorry, Anna, I don't know. Do you want me to help you call the hotels?"

Anna thought about it for a moment, then said, "No, that's okay. Alfred and I will take care of it." She said good-bye to Rachel, and went to find Alfred. He was in the library, dusting.

"Rachel doesn't know where he is. Apparently she and Bruce had an argument last night, and the last time she saw him, he was down by the docks, in front of Carmine Falcone's club." Anna informed him.

You had to be quick, and know Alfred well, but Anna was and she did, and so she saw his hand falter, and nearly knock over a small figurine as he dusted it. It was a brief crack in his unflappable manner, but it scared Anna. She had never seen Alfred be anything but completely collected, even in some extreme circumstances.

"She suggested that we call the hotels downtown and see if Bruce is registered at any of them, and call his friends from Princeton. I don't know any of them, though," Anna said.

"Yes, that sounds like the logical next step," Alfred agreed. "But let's call the hotels before we try the college." Based on the conversation he'd had with Bruce the day before the trial, it didn't sound like returning to Princeton would have been a likely destination for the young man. Alfred made a mental note to also call the hospital. It would be farfetched to think that Bruce wouldn't have been recognized, even if he had been brought in without identification. But it wouldn't hurt to check, and he didn't think he'd mention it to Anna.

Alfred put down his dust rag, and headed into the kitchen, with Anna following close behind. They pulled out the yellow pages, consulted the hotel section, and divided it between them.

Two hours later, after contacting all of the hotels in Gotham City, and several more calls to Bruce's cell phone, they came up empty handed. Alfred had quietly phoned the hospital, and to his immense relief, no one matching Bruce's description had been brought in last night, or today. He had managed to avoid mentioning the name Bruce Wayne, but he knew that that small success would only delay the media firestorm that would inevitably ignite once the press found out that Bruce's family was looking for him.

Anna was really worried now. Bruce had plenty of superficial 'friends', society people, but no one that he would go to for a serious problem. No one besides Rachel, and they knew he hadn't been with her. Where he had disappeared only added to the level of concern.

Anna wanted to know what Bruce and Rachel had fought about. She could certainly understand being unsettled by what had happened yesterday, but she would have thought that Bruce would have been relieved by the events. Sure the system had let Chill go, but he had only been a free man for a matter of minutes. True, judging by the fact that the woman who shot Chill had mentioned Falcone, his murder had not been committed out of a desire for justice for Chill's victims, but to keep him from testifying about his former cellmate. But the end result was the same, and justice had been carried out in a round about manner. If Chill hadn't murdered Dr. and Mrs. Wayne, he never would have been in prison at the same time as Carmine Falcone, he never would have gotten the information that had leveraged his early release, and he wouldn't have been murdered the way he was. So if you looked at it from that point of view, you could say that his death was a direct result of his crime, and that seemed like justice to Anna.

But what had caused their argument? Had it been something personal? That was a possibility. Bruce and Rachel had been friends for a long time; there was certainly chemistry between them, and Anna suspected that her brother wouldn't mind them being more than just friends. That hardly seemed like a topic that would have come up yesterday, after the hearing. Whatever the fight had been about, Rachel wasn't talking, so until Bruce turned up, that question would have to go unanswered.

With a sigh, Anna laid the list of hotels on the coffee table, and went into the kitchen. Alfred was there making tea, as he always did in times of distress.

She took a seat at the table just as Alfred was setting the tray down. "So, does a good cup of tea cure everything?" Anna asked in a half-hearted attempt to lighten the mood.

Alfred smiled. "Just about," he replied.

Anna sipped her tea, fighting down the panic that threatened to rise up and choke her. Bruce wasn't at a hotel, he wasn't with Rachel, and he wasn't home. It was possible that he had headed back to school, but not very likely.

"Miss Cartwright phoned while I was making the last of the calls on my list," Alfred said. "I told her that you were rather busy, but that I would pass along the message."

Anna sighed. Maggie Cartwright was her best friend, had been since the second grade. But calling her right now would involve a lot of explaining, and truthfully, Anna just didn't feel up to it. "Thanks Alfred. I'll call her later," she said.

Her tea finished, Anna wandered upstairs. She had come up here with the intention of changing her clothes and going out to see the horses. But as she reached the door to her bedroom, she paused. Even though the odds of Bruce suddenly returning to school without telling anyone were slim, it wouldn't hurt to see if he had any phone numbers for his friends in his suitcase.

She slipped down the hall, and into her brother's room. Bruce's suitcase was sitting at the foot of the bed, and she set it on the bed so she could look through it.

As she unzipped the bag, guilt washed over her. What if this was all just a coincidence? Bruce could come home any minute with a perfectly plausible explanation for his whereabouts and she would have invaded his privacy for nothing, and he would be angry with her. Well, she'd just tell him to blow it out his ear, it was his fault for not calling.

With that thought in mind, she whipped the lid to the bag up. A disordered array of clothing greeted her. _I guess I'll start at the top_, she decided as she opened the pocket in the lid of the case. But there was nothing useful there, only Bruce's return train ticket, and a silk necktie. Pulling the ticket out, she stared at it. The fact that it was here, and Bruce was not, seemed to indicate that he hadn't returned to school. Of course, he could have easily purchased another fare, if he had wished to leave suddenly, but why would he have done that? All he had to do was come home, grab his bag, and leave. No one would have stopped him.

After replacing the ticket in the pocket, Anna systematically rummaged through the pile of t-shirts, and other items of clothing. She pulled a pair of blue jeans out, accidentally unfolding them, and a small, plastic box tumbled to the ground.

There were no markings on the box, and the contents weren't visible through the opaque material. Anna opened it, and tilted it forward, spilling the contents into her palm. Bright, brass cylinders, flat on one end and forming a blunt point on the other filled her hand. It took a minute for her to identify the objects, and when she did, she had to resist an impulse to throw them down. Very carefully, she put them back in the box and placed it back in the suitcase.

Bullets. What on earth was Bruce doing with a box of bullets in his suitcase? What was he doing with them, period? Bruce hated guns, understandably so. _Guns_, she thought, _if he had bullets there should be a gun here somewhere_.

A thorough search of the suitcase failed to turn up a gun, or any of the phone numbers she had come here in search of initially. She put everything back in the bag, more or less how she had found it, including the bullets. After replacing the suitcase to its original location, she sat down on the bed, her mind whirling with this new development.

There was no reason she could think of that anyone would have a box of bullets without a gun. Since she hadn't found the weapon, and the box wasn't full, she had to assume that when Bruce had left for the hearing, he had taken a loaded gun with him. This was an unsettling development. What was he intending to do with it?

**A/N - Never fear, the next chapter is nearly done. Yes I realize that it's not a cliffhanger, since we all know what Bruce was doing with the gun, but it's news to Anna.**

**To all of the kind people who have left such lovely reviews: Thank you soooooo much! I see now why all the other authors crave reviews, they're addictive! Which is not say that I don't want more, so please review! Thanks so much.**


	5. Beginning of the Journey

**Disclaimer: You know the drill, Anna is mine, everything else belongs to them.** sigh

As Anna sat there, still mulling over her discovery, she heard footsteps coming down the hall, and made a quick decision not to tell Alfred about the bullets. After all, she was working on an assumption, albeit a very logical one, and she could be completely wrong. No need to worry Alfred over a circumstantial bit of information.

Slipping off the bed, she hurried out into the hallway. Alfred was standing at the door to her room, hand poised to knock.

"What's up Alfred?" Anna asked.

Anyone else would have been startled by her unexpected appearance, but Alfred took it in stride, and calmly turned to face her.

"I was coming to let you know that I have placed a call to the Gotham police department, and that two officers should be arriving shortly." Alfred informed her.

"Thank you Alfred." Anna glanced down, realizing she was still in her pajamas. "I guess I had better get dressed," she commented.

"That would probably be a good idea," Alfred said, smiling. He turned and went back downstairs.

Anna threw on a pair of jeans, and a soft sweater, and headed down to the kitchen. Alfred was there, brewing more tea, which made her smile.

"I looked in Bruce's suitcase, but I didn't find a phone book, or anything useful," Anna told him.

Alfred nodded and said, "Well, it was a bit of a long shot anyway. I called the university and spoke to one of his professors. Through him, I obtained the phone number to the dorm where I was told some of Bruce's friends live. The counselor that I spoke to there fetched one of the young men to the phone. Andrew, I believe his name was. He said he hasn't seen or heard from Master Bruce since last week, but that he would check with some more of their friends and see if any of them had heard anything, and call us back if he found any useful information."

"Oh, well maybe he'll turn something up," she replied. Anna helped Alfred carry the tea tray and platter of cookies that he had prepared into the formal sitting room.

A knock sounded at the front door, and Alfred left to receive the officers. Anna chose a pale blue chaise lounge and sat down. She hated this room, though she didn't know why she felt so vehemently about it. It was a lovely, well decorated room, which she was told still retained some of her mother's personal touch. Maybe it was too fancy, or perhaps it was just because it was seldom used, and those occasions which warranted utilizing it were generally serious ones.

Alfred appeared in the doorway, followed by two uniformed officers.

As they entered the room, Anna stood to greet them. She found herself slipping into very formal manners in situations where she felt like she was on display, representing the Wayne family. As the lady of the house, which she had repeatedly argued was not her place, but had been firmly informed by Alfred that it most certainly was, it was her job to be the gracious hostess, no matter what the circumstances were.

Pleasantries exchanged, the officers took a seat on the antique sofa, and after accepting a cup of tea and a few cookies, got down to business.

Watching the officers, Anna shivered, feeling a sudden chill. Somehow, their presence made everything seem so real, so serious. As long as it was just her and Alfred looking for Bruce, she could pretend that he was just late to supper. But once you involved the police, it made it much scarier.

The officer that had introduced himself as Detective Gordon spoke first. "When was the last time you saw Mr. Wayne?"

"Yesterday. He was home from college to attend Mr. Chill's hearing, and he left around 1:30, headed down to the courthouse," Alfred answered.

After establishing that Bruce had indeed reached the courthouse that day, and having Alfred explain in detail the efforts made thus far to locate Bruce, the officers were silent for a few minutes, contemplating what they had learned.

"One of the first things we'll need to do is obtain Mr. Wayne's financial records, to see if there are any unusual expenditures from before his disappearance, or any activity since then. We'll need your permission to do that," Gordon explained.

"Of course," Alfred replied.

"With someone of Mr. Wayne's financial position, we have to consider kidnapping as a possibility. If that is the case, you can expect some sort of ransom message. Have you received any unusual communications today? A hang up phone call, or wrong number?"

"No, nothing of the kind. The only incoming phone calls that we have received today have been from reporters looking for an interview with Master Wayne about yesterday's events, and a call from one of Miss Wayne's close friends." Alfred responded.

"If you should receive any ransom demands, please inform us immediately, even if the note says not to involve the police, we need to know what's going on. Of course, should Mr. Wayne turn up on his own, please inform us of that as well. With your permission, we would like to put a tap on the phone lines, in case someone should call, we will have more to work with," the detective instructed.

"Do what ever is necessary," Alfred said. "Given the area where Master Wayne disappeared, do you think that Carmine Falcone might be involved?"

"We'll look into that probability as much as we can, and with that in mind we'll expand our search to new areas if we don't find anything in a couple of days," Gordon answered.

"Like the bottom of the river?" Anna asked bleakly, speaking up for the first time.

Gordon turned to regard the girl. She looked young, but there was a quiet maturity in her eyes. Poor kid, first her parents were killed, and now her brother was missing. He hesitated before replying, not wanting to seem negative, but she obviously didn't have a rose-tinted view of the situation, and he felt it was important to be honest with her. "Depending on what happens between now and then, yes, that is a possibility."

Anna was pleasantly surprised with the quality of that answer; she hadn't really expected such straightforwardness. Detective Gordon seemed like a nice man, and she appreciated his concise, true answer. She didn't want to think about them looking for Bruce in the river, and what that implied, but she also knew that she had to be realistic. People who disappeared around Falcone usually didn't turn up alive. As pragmatic as she was trying to be, her mind shied away from that thought, and she forced her attention back to the officers.

"We'll call for some technicians to come place the wiretaps, and once they're done, we'll be out of your way," Gordon said. Alfred offered them some more tea, or other refreshments, but they politely refused, and began making some phone calls to get the taps set up.

Anna helped Alfred carry the dishes back to the kitchen. It was only a matter of time now until the media got wind of Bruce's disappearance. She was dreading that, the unending influx of phone calls, the reporters that stuck their microphones in your face if you dared to go out in public, like they owned your life and it was your duty to share it. They wouldn't let up either, not until something more sensational happened. Well, at least she wouldn't have to face it for a while, since she wouldn't be back at school until next week, and she didn't really feel like going anywhere. All she had to do was avoid answering the phone, which shouldn't be a problem.

Besides, as bad as it all looked, Bruce could still show up, and then all would be well. She knew realistically, that the chances of that happening were getting slimmer with each hour that passed. The thought of Bruce being held against his will was distressing, but at least it was an explanation that didn't necessarily end with him being dead.

According to the clock in the hall, it was almost 6. Supper would probably be ready soon, she had smelled something cooking when they took the dirty dishes into the kitchen. She really should call Maggie back. If Maggie found out about Bruce being gone through the news, she was going to be seriously ticked.

Actually, right now would be a perfect time to call Maggie, since it was nearly time for supper, the conversation couldn't go on too long. She headed to the family room, picked up the phone and dialed Maggie's number. It seemed like the phone had barely begun to ring when it was answered.

"Cartwright residence," said a very formal male voice. George, the Cartwright's butler was a bit of a stick in the mud.

"Hello George, it's Anna. May I please speak to Maggie?" Anna requested.

"One moment." She heard a click, and was then greeted by Maggie's cheerful voice.

"Anna! Took you long enough, I was beginning to wonder if Alfred had let me down and not given you the message. Where were you today? I figured you wouldn't be there yesterday, what with the hearing and all, but I was surprised when you didn't show up this morning."

"I took a spill off of Poseidon, and I broke my arm. The doctor's note says no school until at least Tuesday. It's nothing big, but I didn't get to go to the hearing because of it, and…" Anna paused, intending to explain what had transpired since the last time she saw Maggie, but her friend interrupted her before she could go on.

"I saw what happened and I wanted to call last night, and see if you wanted to talk about it, but Mum said that I should wait. She said that you would have enough to handle as it was." Maggie said.

"Well, yesterday was strange, and I'm still haven't quite sorted it out. But it gets worse. Bruce is missing," Anna stated bluntly.

"Missing! What do you mean?" Maggie exclaimed.

After Anna finished explaining the day's events, there was a long pause. Then Maggie finally spoke. "Anna, I don't know what to say. You must be so worried. Is there anything I can do?"

"Thanks Maggie, but I don't think there's anything to do except wait. The police are working on it, and I guess it'll be all over the news by tomorrow evening, maybe sooner," Anna replied sadly.

With a promise to call Maggie immediately if the police turned anything up, or if there was anything that Maggie could do, Anna hung up the phone. Normally the two girls would talk for hours, even if they had just seen each other. But this call had been far from normal, and depressing to boot.

With a sigh, Anna wandered out into the hall. She knew that Alfred probably had supper ready, but she wasn't hungry. Her arm was aching, and all she really wanted was to go to sleep and wake up to find that this was all a dream.

Reaching the kitchen and finding it empty, she headed to the sitting room where they had received the officers. Alfred was there, with Detective Gordon.

"They didn't find anything unusual, no large expenditures and no activity since yesterday," Gordon was saying as Anna walked in.

"So aside from waiting to see if we receive any ransom demands, what else will be done to find Master Bruce?" Alfred inquired.

Detective Gordon hesitated, and then answered in a low voice. "As a personal piece of advice, I would recommend that you hire a private detective. That's off the record, understand, but I think that it would be a good idea."

Anna was puzzled. Why would the detective feel like the Gotham police wouldn't be able to find Bruce? She knew crime was bad, but were they so overworked that they couldn't take time out to investigate the disappearance of one of their citizens? A prominent one at that, though neither Bruce nor she herself would want to receive preferential treatment because of their wealth.

Alfred nodded slowly, a thoughtful look on his face. "I'll contact Mr. Earle tomorrow to see if the company attorney can recommend any one."

Gordon seemed pleased by that response, and began gathering his paperwork together. "The wiretaps are in place. They shouldn't interfere with the operation of your telephone. If you should receive any suspicious phone calls, contact us immediately and we'll go with it from there."

"Alright," Alfred said. "Thank you very much for your time and efforts today."

"Just doing our job," Gordon said in an odd tone of voice. He shook hands with Alfred and Anna, then departed.

They stood there, listening to the crunch of tires on the gravel drive.

As the sound faded, Alfred placed a hand on Anna's shoulder. "Why don't we go have some supper?"

Anna turned to face him, her face pale and strained. "Will they find him Alfred?"

"I don't know," he said simply.

Four years later

"Congratulations! We made it!" Maggie Cartwright squealed as she threw her arms around Anna.

Anna staggered slightly under the surprise attack, nearly dropping her diploma in the process. The commencement ceremony had just ended, and somehow Maggie had found her in the crowd. They compared diplomas and chattered excitedly about how glad they were to be done with school, at least until the fall.

Family members were slowly beginning to join the graduates on the floor of the gymnasium. Like Bruce, Anna had attended a public high school, instead of the stuffy privates schools favored by Gotham's elite. Maggie had had to campaign long and hard to be able to go with Anna, but she had emerged victorious.

Anna searched for Alfred in the stream of people coming down from the bleachers, and finally located him. She hurried over to him, and hugged him.

"Congratulations Miss Anna!" Alfred said.

"Thanks Alfred. I still can't believe it's over, it doesn't seem possible. We're still going to Le Cirque, aren't we?" She asked excitedly.

"Of course, I'll go pull the car around front if you're ready to go," he answered.

"I will be by the time you get back, I'll meet you there." Anna replied.

That night in her room, the fancy dinner over, and all the excitement gone, Anna flopped down on her bed. Today had been wonderful, but she was glad it was done.

She rolled over and stared at a picture of herself and Bruce, taken at his high school graduation, that was sitting on her nightstand. Tears blurred her vision, obscuring the image.

Four years. Had it really been that long? In some ways it seemed like it had all happened yesterday, and in others it seemed like Bruce had been a dream, lovely but surreal.

Thinking back, she remembered the hope that had colored those earlier days of Bruce's disappearance slightly brighter. As long as you could make yourself believe that he might come back at any moment, you could breathe a little easier. After the first couple of weeks, that hope had faded, and by the two month anniversary, it was gone altogether. When Detective Gordon had come to them just after the one-year mark to tell them that their case had been designated cold, and put aside it had been a cruel blow. But by the time the private investigator decided that he would have to back burner the case, after almost 2 years of work, Anna was so numb that she hardly acknowledged him.

At least the swirl of media attention had died down eventually. Bruce was the top story for weeks, but even the press lost interest in the end. Anna was glad for that though, it had been impossible, trying to deal with all of the phone calls and reporters.

She lay there, tears falling silently, lost in memories. Big events like today were always bittersweet, always highlighting what was missing.

_Like the day she turned sixteen, and Alfred had taken her to get her driver's license. She had been so nervous, convinced that she would fail, but she had passed the test on her first try. All that practicing with Alfred in the old Range Rover had paid off. Glowing with pride, she had presented the shiny plastic card to Alfred in the parking lot. They had driven home, the high spirits that came with success keeping any sad thoughts at bay. _

_As they had pulled into the drive, Anna caught a glimpse of a shiny, red car parked in front of the house. She was wondering who was there, when she spotted the large bow on top. Alfred stopped the car, and she slowly got out. She had turned to Alfred, disbelief evident on her face._

_"It's for you," he had said with a wide smile. _

_Anna had run to the car and opened the door, inhaling the smell of the leather interior, marveling at the way the late summer sun had sparkled on the glossy paint job. It was a used car; no one could ever accuse Alfred of being impractical. But it was in wonderful shape, and Anna loved it._

Anna smiled. That day had been amazing, and that car had blown her mind. She had loved driving it then, and she still loved it.

As she lay there, reminiscing, she put a hand to her throat, finding the gold chain that was there and drew her fingers down it to the single diamond that hung on it. She watched the gem sparkle as she turned it in the light, and remembered the day she had received it.

It had been two months ago, as she was getting ready for her senior prom. Alfred had brought her a velvet jewellery box, saying that he thought she might like something special to wear tonight. Upon opening it, she had found the pendant, and a matching pair of earrings. They had belonged to her mother; Alfred had taken them out of the safe for Anna. Though she would one day inherit all of her mother's jewellery, that day was a few years off. Alfred had selected this set for her, as an early graduation gift, and a very thoughtful one at that.

These milestones just made her feel Bruce's absence more acutely. Bruce was gone, and she didn't expect to ever see him again. That still hurt, even after four years.

Anna sighed and did her best to push Bruce out of her mind. She got up and started getting ready for bed. Dwelling on the past wasn't going to help anything, and she had an exciting summer ahead of her getting ready for college. That's what she should be focusing on.

**To the lovely reviewers: Thanks again! You're the best! **

**What do you think of this one? The next one is almost done, and unless Anna changes her mind (she's in control here, not me), it will be the long awaited (well, I think a few of you are kinda looking forward to it) back to the present, confrontation with Bruce.**


	6. Complicated

**Disclaimer: Standard thing, I don't own any of it except Anna. I'm just borrowing it, and I'll return it all in due time.**

_The present_

Anna didn't even know where to begin. She just sat there, staring at Bruce. The whirlwind of emotions she was experiencing was barely allowing her enough time to properly categorize each individual feeling. Anger, that was certainly the front-runner, hurt, betrayal, abandonment, the negative emotions were out in full force. Yet she had to admit that deep down, she was relieved that Bruce was okay, that he was alive.

"I want to know one thing," she managed to choke out, in a strained voice. "Were you kidnapped? Held against your will? Did someone keep you from contacting us?" If that had been the case, though she strongly suspected it had not, then his extended absence and subsequent reappearance would be easier to swallow. If that were true, she could shift her anger from him, to whoever was responsible.

Bruce looked her evenly in the eye, and answered, "No. I wasn't."

She felt like she had been sucker punched, a physically ill sensation. Staring at Bruce, she suddenly wanted nothing more than to hit him, to exact a physical toll for the emotional agony she had lived with for all these years.

He had left because he wanted to, and remained hidden all of his own volition. Did he not care about her at all? Or Alfred? About the suffering that they had been through, or what his disappearance had cost them emotionally?

Anna took a deep breath, trying desperately not to cry. Not here, there would be time for tears later, but this was not the time. It was too much, she felt claustrophobic, trapped. Seized by a sudden, intense desire to get out of that room, out of the house all together, and most of all away from Bruce, she jumped off the couch, brushed past Alfred, and fled. Into the hall, out the front door, and down to the stable. Her sanctuary.

Back in the family room, Bruce sighed deeply. That had gone as badly as he had feared. He didn't blame Anna for being so hurt and angry; he knew he would have reacted very similarly in that situation. At least, the person he had been before his journey would have.

The problem facing him now was what to do about it. He didn't want to tell Anna his plan. Not that he didn't trust her; even in her current angry state he knew she wouldn't knowingly betray him. But he didn't want to burden her with the responsibility of his secrets, and most of all, he didn't want to endanger her by imparting that knowledge. That was the whole reason for the secrecy, and dual-identities in the first place, so that he wouldn't bring harm to the ones he loved.

If he lied to Anna now, and didn't tell her the truth about his plans for saving Gotham, and she found out about it later, he would lose her forever. He had hope that she would forgive him for leaving the way he did, given time. But he was under no illusion that she would allow him to deceive her again, not with out an excellent reason, and she was unlikely to see his grounds for keeping her in the dark as acceptable excuses, despite the logic and good motives behind them.

Lying to her was not a good plan, but neither was telling the truth. He could feel frustration brewing within him, something he hadn't felt since before the monastery. Ducard had been explicit in his instructions about controlling emotion, and how vital it was for a successful warrior to attain that level of control. _Then again_, Bruce reflected bitterly, _Ducard had been speaking of emotions in relation to your enemies, not little sisters. _

"Does she still go down to the stable when she's upset?" Bruce inquired of Alfred.

"Yes sir," Alfred replied.

Trying to decide whether to follow Anna, or let her have her space, Bruce felt a vague sense of déjà vu. He had been faced with a similar decision on his last morning at the Manor, when Anna had begged him to allow her to attend the hearing. He felt a sudden urge to explain to Anna why he had left in the first place. It was unlikely that Rachel would have given Anna the details of the argument down by the docks, and he owed his sister that much.

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Anna was standing outside of Esperanza's stall, having spent the last half hour crying into the mare's shoulder, when she heard the main door slide open and closed, and then footsteps on the hard, wooden floor. She turned to see who it was, praying that it was anyone but Bruce, and found that her prayers had been in vain. Turning back to face the horse, listening to him walk towards her, she felt the anger that had begun to subside in the quite confines of Esperanza's stall blaze up again, hotter than ever.

"Anna," Bruce said softly when he reached her.

She whirled on him, nearly blinded with furious tears. Tired of trying to deal with this situation like a rational adult, she loosed her tongue and let him have it.

"You left, Bruce. You disappeared and left me and Alfred to pick up the pieces of our lives. Alfred had already put this family back together once, and you made him do it again. Did you even think about that Bruce? Did you? About the months that we spent worrying about you, dreading every knock on the door, the nagging fear that every time we answered the phone it would be bad news. When Rachel told us where she saw you last, we assumed that Falcone did you in. We've spent 7 years going through hell, waiting for them to find your body, waiting for some sort of closure, anything so that we could truly move on. When we signed those papers last year, declaring you legally dead, it tore my heart out. I felt like we were letting you down, giving up on you. Now, after all that struggling, all that pain, you waltz in, and we realize that we've been trying to bury someone who wasn't even dead. You didn't even have the decency to let us know you were _alive_."

She took a ragged breath, and continued. "It takes effort to make someone like Bruce Wayne disappear. You had to work to keep yourself hidden, and did a damn fine job of it too. All for what? Why? _Why?_" Her voice scaled up, until the last word came as a shout. She raised her hands and gave Bruce a hard shove.

"What was so important that you saw fit to torture us like that?" Anna shoved Bruce again, finding the physical outlet for her fury immensely satisfying. Tears streaming down her face, she was too upset to find any more words to make Bruce understand what he had done to her. Unable to articulate her feelings any longer, she beganstriking his chest with the sides of her fists, sobbing violently.

Bruce didn't try to stop her, even though a few of the blows landed hard enough to hurt. If she needed a punching bag to cool her temper, he could deal with that. She was right, he had been incredibly selfish. He had been so caught up in finding himself, defining himself that he had neglected the ones he loved. He deserved to be raged at.

Finally, Anna's sobs diminished, and the rapid pace of her fists slowed. She hung her head, and drew a long, hitching breath.

Bruce reached out and gently put his hands on her shoulders. She jerked away from him, and looked up, a fresh spark of anger clearly visible on her face.

"Don't touch me," she said hoarsely.

With a sigh, Bruce gestured to a bench along the wall. "Will you sit with me?"

Anna gave him a wary look, and he was relieved to see that the anger was gone from her eyes. He took a seat on the bench, and watched as Anna sat down on the opposite end, as far from him as she could get.

"Anna, please understand. By telling you this, I'm not trying to make any excuses for the way I left. I made a very selfish choice, and it was beyond inconsiderate of me to place a burden like that on you and Alfred. But that choice was made, and I can't change that now. What I can do, is explain to you why I made it, and hope that even if you can't forgive me for it, you will at least understand it," Bruce said quietly.

She regarded him solemnly, and then nodded. _Well, at least she's willing to listen_, Bruce thought. _That's a start_.

"That day, I went to the hearing with one thing on my mind. Justice. I was convinced that the DA's office was belittling the memory of our parents by releasing Chill, regardless of what he had to offer in return. So if the courts weren't going to carry out justice, I was." Bruce paused for a moment.

"I took a gun with me to the hearing," he saw Anna's eyes widen at that confession. "I left the courtroom before the verdict, and retrieved the gun from where I had hidden it earlier by the car. Then I went back up the steps and waited. My plan was to shoot Chill when he came out, right there in front of all those cameras and witnesses. I was going to kill him. I knew I would be caught, and I didn't care. That man had killed our parents, and it was my fault that he had the chance to do it. By killing him, I guaranteed that he was paying for his mistakes, and then I would pay for mine," Bruce said.

Anna stared at her brother in disbelief. She had been right; he had taken a gun with him. Over the years, she had wondered off and on what exactly he had intended to do with it, knowing that whatever it was, it couldn't be good. Now she knew, and even though it hadn't happened, the thought of what Bruce had planned to do that day terrified her. She hadn't known that Bruce's guilt over their parents murder had run that deep, that he would be willing to sacrifice everything just to ease that pain.

She sat there, listening to him recounting that day, and felt her anger dim slightly. Having a reason now, for his sudden departure helped. But it still didn't explain where he had been for seven years, and why he had never contacted them.

When he finally finished, she didn't say anything. Bruce watched her, wondering how she would react to what he had said. He hoped she wouldn't immediately press the issue of where he had been since he left, that what he had told her would be enough for now.

Anna toyed with a lock of her long hair as she considered everything she had just learned. It explained a lot, but it raised at least as many questions as it had answered. She knew Bruce was waiting for her reaction, so at last she cleared her throat and spoke.

"I've wondered for a long time exactly what you had planned that day. After you disappeared, I went through your bag, looking for phone numbers to friends, or anything useful. I found the bullets, and I knew that you had them for a reason, and since I didn't find a gun, I knew that whatever you intended to do with it would most likely happen that day. In the back of my mind, I was afraid that you had committed suicide, that Chill's release had hit you that hard. I guess in a way you did, you killed your life here when you left it behind," she said thoughtfully. "I never told anyone about that box, not even Alfred."

"Anna," Bruce began, but stopped when she held up her hand.

"I appreciate your explaining what happened between you and Rachel, and what you went through then. It helps. But it doesn't take away the hurt that has accumulated in all this time, and the reasons why you left don't explain why you stayed gone. Why didn't you write? Just so we could stop worrying? That first year, Alfred was at the mailbox when the mailman pulled up everyday, waiting to see if we would hear from you. Hoping that in this batch of envelopes we would find some solace, something to celebrate." Anna said.

"All we ever got was disappointment," she continued, "And we could only handle so much of that. After a while, we stopped looking, and our hope died. Life slowly regained its equilibrium, and we went on. But moving on is not the same as forgetting, and you were always there in my mind, a shadow that cast itself over the bright moments of my life. There was always that thought, no matter how wonderful things were, that Bruce should be here, that you should have been the one hugging me, giving me the keys to my first car, putting me on that plane to Paris when I left for college."

Anna looked up at Bruce, tears standing in her eyes. "Now you're back, you're alive, something I didn't think was possible. Damn it Bruce! You've blown my life to bits again, and I'm tired of having to pick up the pieces and glue them back in place. I don't know if I can do it this time." She forced her fingers through her thick hair, a pained expression on her face. "Where have you been?"

When Bruce didn't respond right away, she said, "Even if you answer that question, that doesn't make everything okay. Knowing why you left and where you spent the last few years won't change the fact that you did leave. You can't just come in here and explain it all away! How do I know that you won't do it again?" Anna broke off, her increasingly uneven voice betraying her rising emotions.

Finally, she stood up and took several deep breaths. "I need space Bruce," she said simply. "I can't sort this all out in one day. I need you to respect that."

"Okay," Bruce replied.

That seemed to satisfy her, and she headed for the door. When she reached it, she stopped and turned back to face him down the aisle. "Bruce, don't misunderstand. I am glad that you're alright." Anna called to him. Then she hurried out the door, sliding it closed behind her.

Bruce waited a few minutes to give her time to get back to the house, then left the stable and followed the path up to the back door. When he got inside, Alfred was waiting nearby.

"Is everything alright Master Bruce?" Alfred inquired.

Mentally reviewing the days events, Bruce smiled slightly. "Not yet. But I think it will be eventually," he said

**To all of my reviewers: Thank you so much! Hugs for everyone! Pookie Power 2005, how did you know that Krispy Kremes were my favorite? Perhaps because there are few things in this world that can rival the wonderfulness of a hot, hot, hot Krispy Kreme donut? Ahhhh, bliss.**

**So what did you think of the showdown? Please let me know!**


	7. Epilogue

**Disclaimer: Same old thing, you know it's not mine. Except for Anna.**

**A/N: Sorry it's so short, but epilogues usually are. I promise, Anna will be back, and next time there will be plenty of Bat-action too! The first chapter of my next fic is almost done, so look for it soon!**

"When can we expect you back?" Alfred asked as he placed Anna's suitcases on the curb.

Anna bit her lip, contemplating her reply. Last night had been awful. She had been so confused, frustrated, hurt and residually angry at Bruce that she hadn't slept. Morning had not brought a resolution to her problems, and on an impulse, in the early hours of the morning she had called Maggie.

Maggie had gone to college with Anna in Paris, though their majors had been different, art history for Maggie, and international business for Anna. While they were there, Maggie had met and eventually married Josh, a nice young man from a titled family in England, and settled into a posh flat in London. Maggie had been begging Anna to come visit for months. With the situation at home so complicated, Anna decided that this was the perfect time to take her friend up on her offers. She had called the airport and made arrangements for the private jet to be ready for her around 10 o'clock that morning. That would put her into London a little late, but Maggie had insisted that it wasn't a problem, and wouldn't hear of Anna taking a cab.

All of those phone calls had gotten her here. Alfred had readily agreed to take her to the airport, and much to Anna's surprise, Bruce hadn't even tried to get her to stay. She wasn't sure how she felt about that; it could be complimentary or insulting depending on how you looked at it. Her brother had bid her a cordial farewell, and told her to be careful. Apparently those older brother reflexes die hard, even after 7 years of disuse.

It took a while to get everything loaded, and settled, but it was just a few minutes after 10 when they took off. Once they were in the air, and on the way, Anna was able to relax. In London, with Maggie, and away from this whole mess, maybe she would be able to clear her head and make some real progress at resolving the hard feelings she still had toward Bruce. She sure hoped that she would be able to do something about it. As angry as she still was, she didn't want to lose Bruce forever. Sure he had made some mistakes, and caused a lot of pain along the way. But that was no reason to never forgive him. Too, the Manor was her home, and she wasn't going to leave it behind just because she couldn't get along with her brother. It was nice to know that no matter where she went, no matter how messed up things were, she had somewhere to come home to.

With that though, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the leather seat. The sleep that had refused to come the night before finally arrived, and she drifted off peacefully.

**The End**

**Like I said, sorry it's not any longer, but I can only work with what Anna gives me. **

**To all of my lovely reviewers: Thank you so much! Your reviews kept me inspired to write. Please keep an eye out for my next fic. I'll hopefully have the first chapter up this week.**


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